monster mash
by deliriousnight
Summary: Call us the Monster Gang. AU. SasuSaku [other pairings inside] ON HIATUS.


**title: monster mash**

**notes: this has been in the works for quite awhile (like many of my stories) and i never managed to finish writing it till now. i hope you enjoy!**

**notes2: see bottom.**

**pairings: (please do not give me crap for these pairings, they may be kinda not-normal but i like them and think they're beautiful.) sasusaku, gaaino, itahina, nejiten, narukarin, suikiba, shikatem.**

* * *

Sakura first Shifted when she was five years old.

She had trekked home from kindergarten, ready to cry about the girls who kept making fun of her forehead, and _could she please get a haircut now?_

The door to her house was unlocked and slightly open, but Sakura paid it no heed, deciding that her mother had been her absent-minded self and had merely forgotten to close the door again.

Her eyes were already moist, so she wiped them away with one hand and pushed open the door with the other, her mouth open and ready to talk, and her hands trembling from the hurt she was feeling.

She was trembling for a whole 'nother reason, a moment later.

_First_, her eyes were focused on the bloody pile in the corner of the room. There was a face in the pile—a horribly disfigured face—that stared at her with soulless eyes and cloth was strewn all around it, as if ripped apart by some devilish _thing_. She could not make out any other definite body part; it had been—just like the clothing—ripped apart, in the most gruesome way.

_Second_, she heard a low growl, menacing and looming, somewhere near her. It was the sort of growl that would make the little girls who called her forehead Big, cower in a corner, sniffling and crying for their parents.

It was the sort of growl that made Sakura's hair stand on end, made goose bumps rise along her arm, and made her turn around and look—

(_look, look, LOOK, it will be the last sight you see_)

—at whatever had made that sound.

* * *

Though her vision was blurred, when she finally looked up, Sakura could make out one thing.

Her house had become a graveyard.

* * *

The coffee shop was silent. It was always silent; the perfect place for people to read, and go on the computer, and be as antisocial as they wanted without anyone bothering them. The cashiers chewed gum, and flipped through magazines, not even looking up when someone stopped in the shop to buy something—knowing, that, if they stayed they would be quiet, and if they left, then they were gone and _they never really mattered, after all_.

She sat in the corner booth, thoughtful and cautious. The pink of her long hair twinkled, as if to say _I am loud, what ever am I doing here?_ but it blended into the pink of the walls, nearest to her, so no one bothered her about it. Her green eyes flicked from one direction to the next and her hands clutched a small bag, on her lap. Ready to swing and go—

(_ready to escape_)

—as far as she could manage to go.

Her mouth stretched in a slight yawn, and she covered her mouth with her hand, plopping it right back down onto her lap, as soon as she was done. The window next to her showed the people on the sidewalk. There were giggling girls outside of boutiques and guys who pretended to be cool, near them. She could hear the beeps and honks of the cars driving down the road—never glancing in her direction.

Never watching her. But she watched them. Watched as they lived so innocently—

(_watching as they decided to know _nothing)́

—and went about their everyday business.

One day, she wished—oh, how she _wished_—she could be like that. A _normal_ 20 year old college student. Other days, she wished that nothing had changed—a silly thing, of course, but she had learnt to appreciate who she was. Just, maybe, not fully.

The jingle of the bell signaled another visitor, yet Sakura did not take her eyes of the window.

She already knew who it was.

"Forehead." Ino slid into the booth the next minute and waited for Sakura to turn towards her. The light tapping of her fingers on the table showed her impatience.

If anyone wasn't suited for this café, it was Ino. She was decked in a purple outfit with fishnet tights and glitter on her cheeks. Her eyes were bright blue, though they showed the edginess she was feeling, as she glanced back and forth—just as Sakura had done.

A waiter came to take her order—waiters _always_ came to take Ino's orders; she was a bit too beautiful to ignore. She curtly answered that _she'd only like a latte, please and thank you and could he please be snappy with that order_. The flustered waiter nodded his head and headed towards the kitchen, glancing back over his shoulder at the two girls. They could hear him moving around to make the drink, dropping everything as he went.

Sakura observed Ino through her lashes. She was always bright—only, today she was bright with irritation. Aware of the fact that this was because of her—because, if Ino had a pet peeve it was certainly when no one acknowledged her—, she shifted the bag on her lap slightly, and bent forward.

"Pig."

That single word seemed to be enough to turn the exasperation into sunshine. Smiling widely, Ino crossed her legs together, and leaned back, placing her hands behind her neck as she relaxed. Sakura did not smile back. She was not happy to be here, and she did not like it. The whole thing had been an impulsive action. The text message she had gotten four nights before had told her to come to this café. Because it was Ino, of course, she had followed the instructions. Because if she didn't, she knew, she would most likely get spammed till the end of time.

"Why did you call me here?" Sakura inquired, right away. She could not waste time here—she could not be around humanity too long.

_The _Madness_ would take over_.

Ino huffed, moving forward—ignoring the waiter who appeared again with her latte, as she did so—and tilting her head, as she blinked up at her. The clear show of cleavage had the waiter sputtering and hurrying away again. Sakura watched him go, slightly amused. He was undoubtedly already infatuated with her friend. But nobody—and she did mean _nobody_—could ever have a chance with Ino. And why try when people—_because they could instinctively _feel_ it_—knew that?

Sakura certainly wouldn't.

"I have important news to share with you." She ran a hand through her perfect blonde locks, picking at the ends—as if she even _had_ split-ends. The lights on the ceiling made the blonde hair seem blinding. Sakura would have looked away, but she was already used to it by now. She had been Ino's friend for quite awhile already. "I've started something."

Sakura stopped watching Ino's hair glint in the light and blinked at Ino. "You've started what?"

"I've started," Ino began, her voice soft, her eyes dangerous. She sounded so compelling that Sakura was unwillingly brought forth to listen—always unwilling, she was, _always unwilling_—, "a Group. A Special Group that you will fit into—a Group that is there so no one will be veiled; a Group that is there so that everyone can be healed.

A Group that is there purely so we can let the _Madness take over._"

* * *

Neji walked in on a Broken Girl.

Usually, the first reaction he'd have would be to turn around and march right back outside the house. It's not that he hadn't seen Tenten naked before; they had crossed _that_ bridge quite a long time ago, actually. But he preferred to keep the nakedness limited to the night—never during the day.

But, this time, Neji did not high-tail it out of there. Because _this _time, he had walked in on a Broken Girl. Curled up in a ball on the floor, as if she was trying to make herself disappear—

(_please, please, go away_)

—, she did not look up when he walked in. She didn't even seem to notice that he had walked in. Her mumbles seemed to be loud enough to drown out the noise of the door opening, he decided. Or she had noticed and just didn't care, because she knew it was him. She was probably _waiting _for him.

He knelt down beside her and started rubbing circles on her bare back—an action that always worked when trying to soothe her. It didn't stop the mumbling, but she at least managed to get a hoarse, pungent laugh out and sat up, throwing herself at him, and burying her face into his shoulder.

The laugh wasn't the sort of sound that Neji liked to hear from Tenten—the sort of sound that reminded him of one of his cousins, Hinata, who was just as Broken as Tenten, and, perhaps, for all the same reasons—, but he couldn't judge. Tenten didn't need a Judge; she needed someone to suck all the loneliness away, someone in the same position as her, someone who knew her as well as he knew himself.

That, of course, is where Neji came in.

"It's seeping, Neji," she whispered, her voice coming out in gasps against his shirt. She fisted her hand through the back of his collar, digging her fingers into his skin, until Neji was numb. But Neji was not the one who needed to be numb. "It's _seeping through me_. It's _seeping through me_ and I can't stop it and, Neji, I don't know what to _do_, how I make it go _away_, what do I _do_, how do I _live—_"

Stroking her dark brown hair, loose from their buns—he saw, out of the corner of his eye, two snapped hair bands, resting quietly in the corner, knowing that they were of no use anymore—Neji did not answer her questions. They were not questions he _could _answer—maybe, they were questions _nobody_ could answer.

Grabbing Tenten behind her knees—ignoring all the scratches on her body, because, after all it was only a little blood—, Neji lifted her up and carried her to the bedroom, only a few feet away.

"I'll help make it trickle out."

* * *

The pool was gigantic. Suigetsu floated in the center of it, after the swim meet had ended. Try as he might, it was impossible to get him out from his pool. The water glided over him, refreshing his body. It felt like a thousand kisses on his skin. He grinned. A thousand kisses on his rough, jagged skin. Wading to the edge of the pool, he held the side wall and lifted himself up, stretching his body as long as he could and waiting for the absolute right moment—

"OW! The _fuck_?" Turning, Suigetsu saw a scowling brunette, staring down at him from the poolside with a disappointed expression on his face. "_Kiba_? The _hell_, man, thought you were still at tha' track meet thing!"

Kiba's scowl grew and he kicked at Suigetsu's head, missing only because he had sunk down too low in the pool. The shoe that he lashed out with, however, managed to fly off his foot and landed in the pool, right smack in the center. Suigetsu smirked at this; revenge and he hadn't even _done_ anything yet. _Sweet_.

"I _was_." Dropping his backpack to the floor, he took off his shirt, threw that to the ground as well, and dived into the pool. Suigetsu enjoyed this; he loved to watch Kiba dive (and undress. Oh he _fucking loved_ watching Kiba undress). Though the Dog was not much of a water person, he had a certain way to how his body moved; sinuous and sultry, beckoning and winding—something that Sui could only _barely_ hold himself back from. "But, I figured, hey, it's Sui. 's prob'bly gonna do somethin' stupid coz he's _Sui_."

"Shut the fuck up, sonuvabitch." Sui observed Kiba as he paddled to the center of the pool. Damn, did he have a beautiful form! He'd be stupid not to notice it, even if he hadn't been Sui—though he was and he didn't know how much longer he could take _being_ Sui. "Don't even pretend tha' ya don't do shit like this all the time."

Kiba deadpanned. "Whenever I do, I do it by accident. _Unintentionally_. Do ya know wha' that means, Sui?" Not waiting for an answer, he continued, "Of course ya don't. Ya do _everythin'_ purposefully." The roll of his eyes emphasized his feelings of exasperation with his best friend.

Sui held back a growl. It was rising from the bottom of his throat and, boy, was it rising _quickly_. But he held it back. There was no point in arguing with Kiba—not that he'd lose, mind you, but arguing about stupid things with your best friend was _stupid_ and Sui would just rather not.

He'd _rather_ feel Kiba against him.

This thought made Sui move into action—after all, he was a Man of Action, like those guys who had created Ben 10. He propelled himself forward until he was in front of Kiba—who was oblivious, as he was bent down, hands searching for his shoe—and watched through wide, amethyst eyes and eyelashes that he knew were _much_ too long for a male, until his friend looked up.

"Kiba." The said boy looked up, opening his mouth, then shutting it, startled to see his buddy in a much closer range than he had been before. Water dripped from Sui's mussed, silver hair, back into the pool, and Kiba could have sworn that the water had turned _silver_ for a moment there. It gleamed and would have mesmerized Kiba for longer, had the owner of said silver hair not captivated him even more. "Fuck me. Now."

Mouth dropping open, Kiba watched perplexed, as Sui sauntered—because, of course, that was the only way to describe the way Sui came to him; slowly and easily, hips swinging slightly, and mouth curved up in a treacherous, _treacherous_ smirk that really would have been illegal if Kiba was in charge. But Kiba didn't think he could be in charge of anything—he was hardly in charge of this situation.

"Would ya prefer for me t' fuck _you_?" Sui said, arrogant smirk still in place. Kiba's eyes narrowed and he backed away until he was against the pool wall. It would have been a better idea not to come into the pool; liquid was Sui's forte, not his. In other words, he was trapped. Trapped between the edge of a pool and a Shark Man, who didn't know how dangerous what he was doing could be. He was well aware of Sui's control level—it was not high, and Kiba'd rather not end up dead for fucking one of his best friends, when he _really_ should have known better.

And so, for all of these reasons, he swiftly bowed down, blindly grabbing at whatever was there, hoping it would be what he looking for. When he found something solid—and, quite possibly, firm enough to hurt—, he hurled it at Sui, leaped up out of the pool and sprinted out of the door, forgetting his shirt in the process.

If only, _if only_, he didn't kind of regret it.

(_But that was alright, because Kiba kind of regretted _everything.)

* * *

"N-Naruto-kun?" Hinata stuttered out nervously, twiddling her thumbs and glancing around repeatedly. It had been days since she left her apartment.

(_Days and weeks and months and, maybe even, __**years**__._)

The blonde that was her Former Crush did not look at her. He stared at some point in the sky as if he was waiting for it to come crash down on him.

(_But it already _had _done that in a way, way back when he and she were given _birth _to._)

Her ink-colored hair was in her face; she pushed more into it, so that nobody could see her opaque eyes.

(_"Your eyes are so WEIRD, Hinata! You're such a FREAK.")_

Nobody seemed to notice the two young adults, just standing in the middle of the sidewalk, still as statues, one dressed in orange and staring up at the sky, the other with a face covered in her hair and looking down at the ground. It was as if they were _invisible_.

She sincerely wished that was true.

"Hinata-chan," said Naruto softly, unlike any voice she had ever heard him use before. He raked a hand through his blonde shaggy hair and she watched as the strands glistened in the sunlight.

It was no wonder why she had been in love with Naruto, really. He was beautiful, not just in his appearance, but in the way his eyes sparkled and the way he held himself and the way he treated people and the way he knew things that no one really expected him to know because they had written him off already.

But, as Hinata looked at Naruto on the sidewalk, she could not see the sparkle in his eyes or the straightness of his back. All she could see waswaswas _desolation _and _hopelessness_. Which, of course, she had seen on Naruto's face before and which, of course, she had never wished to see again.

(_But then she was a hypocrite, wasn't she? She only ever felt misery—Naruto and Neji and TenTen were the only ones to ever make her feel anything else._)

Naruto seemed to read her thoughts and he bent down to stroke her hair, lifting some of it out of her face gently. "It's okay," he said. "Let's go back, Hinata-chan. We've been out too long, you're getting antsy." His hand moved to her back and he lightly pushed her in front of him, as if afraid she would break.

And suddenly Hinata felt like crying. Because, maybe, she was _that _fragile—

(_fragile as a piece of glass_)

—ready to break if anyone touched her the wrong way or said the wrong thing. Maybe she was all her father had said when she was little and all her cousin had accused her when they weren't close and when he blamed her for _everything._

As she thought this, she looked up at Naruto, at his fake smile, the one on his face for her sake, and at the sparkle that had returned to his eyes for _her _sake, because he knew she worried about him and he didn't want that.

And Hinata did a shocking thing.

She got horrendously _angry_.

"Naruto-kun," she whispered and stopped moving. She waited patiently until he back-tracked to her side then continued, "I'm fine. But I think there's something—something important that I—I need to take care of. Do you mind going first?"

Naruto looked confused but he didn't pressure her—he never did. Instead, he headed off to her apartment, where she knew she wouldn't find him when she returned, because he would have thought he was a burden and gone off to his own lonely apartment where he would agonize alone.

When she was sure he was gone, she spun around on her heel and stared at the person who had been following them, who Naruto hadn't noticed because he was too caught up in his _genuinesweetkindselfless_ thoughts.

"What do you want?" she hissed out, in a tone that was not in the character of Hinata because she said everything gently and she didn't like being harsh. But no one could get away with following them in Naruto's weak moments and expect her _not to be _angry.

The man stopped a few feet away from her and stared right back. He was almost the opposite of Naruto; beautiful with shadow-like looks instead of sunshine and warmth. He had a long dark ponytail swept over his shoulder and dark eyes. Two lines ran down his face, making him look older than he probably was.

But his beauty would not let him off with _her_. She continued to stare him down until he answered with a sigh. "I apologize, Hyuuga-san. I didn't mean to frighten you—"

She cut him off, "You didn't."

"—but I was sent to find you and Uzumaki-san. It is of utmost urgency that you follow me."

"I don't believe you," Hinata replied and she didn't. She didn't believe men as dark as he was, with secrets in their eyes that they'd never tell and a way about them that seemed dangerous. "Whoever sent you, tell them that we refused to come with you."

"That would not be wise," the man said, his lips twitching up a little as if he found her _amusing_. An amusing little brat, perhaps, throwing a temper tantrum.

"I don't care," she said, calmly and then she hurried away from the man with the dark, dangerous, secretive eyes who was as beautiful as he was untrustworthy.

And Hinata did not look back.

* * *

**notes2: i really loved writing this. especially hinata's part, because she can have a steel backbone when she wants. any character who hasn't appeared yet'll (probably) appear in the next chapter.**

**please don't forget to reviewwwww~**


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